Battle Ready Armor
by nneefa
Summary: It was more than apparent that Omi didn't get the memo about her clothes, because there he was, practicing 'Spider Doing Hokey Pokey' in front of the mirror. In her bra.


**notes**: based off a comic by yaushie on tumblr.

* * *

There weren't enough words in the dictionary that could accurately describe how Kimiko felt right now: rage, embarrassment, confusion, complete and total _gobsmack_. She was so overcome with emotion that she couldn't even remember what it was that she was supposed to be doing in the first place, only that she came to her room for something important. She could only blink at what she saw as she stood in the threshold of her sleeping quarters, body stiffer than one of Jack Spicer's poorly constructed Jackbot cutouts.

It was as if Omi was in a world of his own, posing and practicing moves in front of her bedroom mirror without any regard towards his surroundings. Now, normally, such a thing wouldn't bother Kimiko. It was perfectly common for her to find the little monk rummaging through her things, if not for anything but plain, old curiosity. Likewise, it was also perfectly common for Omi to go wild in front of any sort of reflection of himself. His ego, while not _quite _continental-size anymore, was still big enough to be its own country, after all. Unfortunately, that wasn't really the issue.

No, it was what he had _on_ while posturing in the mirror that threw Kimiko off her rocker.

She liked to think some things were already understood between her and the team, that there were just some things they weren't supposed to do. When it came to her stuff, she had an unspoken rule about what the boys could and could not use, especially without her permission. They could play her GamePal. They could surf the internet on her desktop, so long as it wasn't anything inappropriate or infected. Under the right circumstances, they could even use her haircare products.

What they weren't allowed to touch, however, was her make-up, her PDA, and especially her clothes, underthings included.

Not after they'd collectively wasted an entire bottle of one of her favorite (and most expensive) bottles of perfume to de-funk Clay's boots; used up all of the storage on her PDA, _twice_, on account of all the horribly angled selfies they took; _and _accidentally ripped one of her brand new, irreplaceable jean jackets just because they wanted to try it on.

It was more than apparent that Omi didn't get the memo about her clothes, especially her underwear, because there he was, without a single care in the world, practicing 'Spider Doing Hokey Pokey' in front of the mirror. In her _bra_.

"Omi," Kimiko finally managed to say, her voice strained. She paused to take in a breath, if only to calm down. She could already feel the fire kindling in her veins. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, Kimiko!" Omi chirped, pausing just before completing his 'Mantis Kick.' "Please, forgive me. I did not see you there. By the way," he said, standing up straight and pointing to the solid, black bikini hooked around his chest, "why did you not tell me you had this most comfortable armor?"

Kimiko repeated him through her teeth. "Armor?"

"Oooh, yes!" Omi agreed excitedly. "The strap in the back helps support my posture, while this part here," he explained, running his fingers along the bottom band on his chest, "allows me to breath properly. And while these bands were most ill-fitting-" He gave the shoulder straps a snap that made Kimiko's eye twitch. "-after making the proper adjustments, I was in top-tip shape! Why, my Lotus Strike has never been more perfect!"

Kimiko couldn't be bothered with correcting him. She could feel her pressure building with every second that passed. "Omi." She stopped to take another breath. "_Who _told you that?"

It didn't take a rocket scientist for her to figure out who the culprit was, since she _k__new _Clay knew better than to pull a stunt like this, and Omi was clearly, _blissfully_ unaware of the wrong he'd committed.

Omi's growing smile only made her angrier as he flexed in the mirror one last time before turning back to her and saying, "Why, our dear friend Raimu-"

"Raimund_oooo_!"

* * *

The second he heard his name echo across the temple, Raimundo could no longer contain his grin as he lifted the scroll he was 'reading' up to cover his mouth.

Any minute now, Kimiko was going to come bursting into the scroll room like a homicidal maniac out for blood, her lips twisted into one of those vicious snarls reserved specially for the Forces of Evil. He could already picture the fire brewing in her palms, no doubt in preparation for torching his hide.

He couldn't say he blamed her, at least not this time.

There were just some things they weren't supposed to do, and ransacking Kimiko's clothes, especially her underwear, was one of them. Unfortunately, this was also one of those times where Raimundo couldn't exactly say he felt bad about his prank either. Not after the stunt Kimiko had pulled on him earlier that week, anyway.

If she thought he was just going to let her get away with hacking his cell phone, switching all of his contacts to 'Ninja Fred' _and_ switching both his screen saver and wallpaper to images of Jack Spicer, then she had another thing coming. Raimundo was a lot of things and, among some of his more undesirable qualities, he counted vindictive as one of them. There was a reason Clay and Omi stopped warring with him. After today, Kimiko was going to learn: never prank Raimundo Pedrosa.

As if on cue, Kimiko pulled the sliding door leading into the scroll room apart, flames dancing in her eyes and heat bouncing off her body in waves. Raimundo placed his scroll down, put on his best poker face and swiveled in his seat, resting his arm over the back of his chair to get a good look at the Dragon of Fire.

Only to see Omi, sporting one of her bras, dangling sheepishly from her hand by the back of his robe.

"Raimundo!" Omi exclaimed cheerfully, despite his compromising position. "Once again, I must thank you for enlightening me on this most effective body armor. I am, as you say, 'comfy as a bumblebee.'"

"What's all the ruckus!?" Clay shouted just as Kimiko was about to go off, sliding down the hall and past the entrance of the scroll room. He clutched the threshold of the door and pulled himself inside, thundering past Kimiko to strike a fighting pose. "I heard Kimiko scream an'...," he paused abruptly, once he got a good look at Omi. "An' jus' _what_ in tarnation are you doin' in Kimiko's underthings, Omi?"

Raimundo spit. Kimiko screamed.

And if Master Fung ever wondered why there was a pile of ash where the chair that sat at the table of the Ancient Scroll of the Shen Gong Wu used to be, he didn't ask.


End file.
